


The other point of view

by MrsSpooky1981



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:17:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsSpooky1981/pseuds/MrsSpooky1981
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had to debunk Agent Mulder’s work. In other words, they were sending me to spy and report on him. Did I understand back then what I was getting myself into?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Другой взгляд](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/199366) by Liffen_Aira. 



> This is some kind of continuation of the fic “My demon and a red-headed wench”, which describes how M&S take their relationship to the next logical level from Scully’s point of view.

The other point of view

Pairing: Mulder/Scully  
Rating: NC-17  
Classification: S, A, R, Scully POV  
Spoilers: Pilot, Squeeze, Fire, Little green men, Duane Barry, Firewalker, Anasazi, Never Again, the End, One Son/Two fathers, Milagro, En ami.  
Warning: possible OOC  
Disclaimer: nothing new here, the same mantra all over again: the X-Files is owned by Fox; no infringement of copyright is intended.  
Feedback: highly appreciated. They give an impulse to keep going. 

 

***  
Chapter 1  
***

I heard a lot about Agent Mulder way back at the Academy. 

His monograph about serial killers and the occult which helped in tracking down the notorious serial killer Monte Propps as well as capturing of John Roche and Luther Lee Boggs made Fox Mulder some kind of a legend in the FBI.

While I still built up my experience at Quantico’s morgues, he was already expected to make a brilliant career in the Bureau. I was looking forward to working with such brilliant agent, thinking that it would be quite interesting and enlightening experience. I told him that much when we first met, eliciting an indulgent smile from him in return. Our greeting hung in the air between us as I gave him a slightly confused look. It seemed he knew perfectly well why the superiors had assigned me, Dana Scully, to his division. Earlier in the Blevins’s office they had made it crystal clear that I would have to debunk Agent Mulder’s work. In other words, they were sending me to spy and report on him. 

Did I understand back then what I was getting myself into?

Our first X-file became a revelation for me. All my knowledge and experience couldn’t help me explain those events I encountered in Bellefleur. Scientific facts, I was used to rely on, turned out to be useless. For Mulder this mysterious world was well-known and habitual while for me it seemed challenging and impossible.

When all evidence from Karen Swenson’s case was destroyed, the autopsy bay with findings from Ray Soames’s examination was trashed, and our motel with X-ray and pictures in my room was burnt to the ground I should have left Mulder in Oregon and come back to Washington. I knew better than stay there any longer. But-- I followed my new partner to the Bellefleur cemetery.

While icy rain drops were falling on our heads, and my teeth were clattering because of cold, Agent Mulder was standing by the unearthed, empty grave and enthusiastically sharing his theory with me. I caught his every word, gaping at him. Mulder didn’t try to convince me that the bodies stolen from the graves, mysterious deaths of those kids in the forest, and disappearance of the nine minutes were work of the extraterrestrials. He was babbling about it as though it was a well-known and hard fact.

“You think I’m crazy.” He asserted it, not asked.

I was looking at him through the shroud of rain, musing over everything what had happened since we came to this town. My habitual world was vanishing, giving place to the striking and unknown one. I realized that there was going on something beyond ordinary. I should have already guessed back then that it wouldn’t be limited by the only one rainy night.

With his shoulders slumped, he walked a few steps away from me and then looked back. I had to make a decision: either stay and turn back or step forward and follow him.

His conviction that all of this had something to do with extraterrestrials made me smile. His enthusiasm was so contagious that I couldn’t help but believed him. And as though sensing my hesitation, he came back. His piercing eyes were darting over my face hungrily.

“What?” he asked, his voice just barely above whisper.

And then we both burst out. We were staring at each other, arguing about inconceivable things and discussing facts in an impossible vein! Mulder was telling about tests that were being done on the victims, about genetic mutations which might be caused by extraterrestrial tests, about an alien impulse.

I agreed with all his reasoning, tasting the rain on my lips. It was as if some kind of slight insanity seized us at that moment. We were whispering like a couple of teenagers who had just gotten to know the greatest mystery of the Universe. As Mulder’s theory got a right to exist after all, we laughed like crazy.

There was no today, no yesterday, no tomorrow – only the rain and we two. Mulder leaned closer, and it occurred to me that he was going to press his lips to my own. I went hot and cold all over and suddenly realized that everything was going to hell. So, I stepped away hurriedly. It was time to come back to reality.

“Let’s go,” he called me.

“Where are we going?”

“We are going to pay a visit to someone.”

And I was ready to follow him from now on. Whatever happens.

***

My new partner with his archive of unexplained crimes heated imagination of many federal agents as well as the Bureau senior executives. One of the best analysts of the FBI with impressive work experience in the VCU wasted, according to our colleagues, his time, trying to find out who and when could see flying saucers. 

Mulder with his passion for everything paranormal was misunderstood and ridiculed. Although it didn’t stop even the most notorious mockers from seeking out his help when they found themselves at a dead end. That was what happened in the Eugene Tooms’s case.

I was approached by Agent Tom Colton, a fellow student from the Academy. When we met over lunch, he was at loss, obviously not knowing how to handle the investigation of the hideous serial killings, resulting in ripping out of the victims’ livers with bare hands. All bodies were found in locked up or high-security places.

I should have been more cautious and guessed Tom’s motives right away. His bosses were putting pressure on him, but he couldn’t show them any progress. Obviously, he had turned to me only because he knew that I’d get Agent Mulder involved in the investigation.

Capture of the perpetrator became possible solely because of my partner’s work. Mulder found an elongated fingerprint on the cover of the narrow ventilation shaft in the last victim’s office. He was sure that he’d seen identical prints in the X-files archive from the serial killing cases in 1933 and 1963 years.

Using the special software, Mulder was able to squash Tooms's print sideways, then stretch it lengthways until he got a match for the print from the 30-years-old case.

That was how we got trace evidence against a certain Eugene Tooms whom we had arrested earlier. When I told Colton about our findings, he went ballistic because he found Mulder’s theory about 100-year-old serial killer, who killed every thirty years, to be absolutely ridiculous.

I realized that if I took Mulder’s side once, there would be no going back. I’d been assigned to the X-files to debunk Mulder’s bizarre ideas from the scientific point of view and discredit his work eventually so it was getting harder for me to balance between my imputed duties and attempts to protect Mulder; I had to choose words carefully as I formulated yet another report for our superiors.

And although Mulder suggested me to think twice before I kept on supporting his ‘unpopular theories’, there wasn’t any doubt in my mind.

Colton, for his part, made it clear that I’d flush my career in the FBI down the toilet by staying with Mulder. Maybe Tom thought that I’d thank him for his warming, but no such luck! I told him to go screw himself.

My work on the X-files got me captivated profoundly. 

***

I knew at first he suspected me of being in cahoots with the FBI bosses who’d been dreaming of getting rid of his pet-project – the X-files. Of course, he never accused me of being a spy to my face back then. Mulder was just waiting for my misstep to report it to our superiors and demand my transfer without further ado. 

Much as I tried to help him with his investigations, Mulder still preferred to work alone, not giving himself the trouble to let me know his intentions or whereabouts. 

Sometimes it seemed to me that in doing so he not only tested my limits but also made it clear that he didn’t need my help. And he got more and more creative in his attempts to prove his independence from me.

So, once I had to rush to New Jersey on my weekend to get him out of a drunk tank and then chase some unidentified wild creature through the local forest.

Later I sat silently, receiving a reprimand from our bosses, after he had headed for Wisconsin on a tip from yet another source to find an UFO downed by the military.

It seemed that a little more, and I would break down, give up, and tell my new partner to get lost forever.

But the more I thought about it, the more often I caught his surprised glance. Maybe he hadn’t expected of me to last for so long. Whatever, the division still got new cases, so we had to adapt to each other.

It seemed it came as a surprise for both of us that our teamwork paid off nicely. And although we rarely found common ground during our investigations, but much to our own surprise as well as surprise of the entire Bureau we became an efficient team.

It was as though we accepted that there were some things beyond our control. In other words, it wasn’t easy, but we had to adjust to each other inevitably. 

By then I had gotten to known Mulder well enough to understand that my partner was smart, witty, charming, impossibly stubborn and a real pain in the neck, and for the icing on the cake – a selfish son of a bitch.

***

I often tried to figure Fox Mulder out. Who was he really? A crazy paranoid as he was seen by people around him? A brilliant profiler? A man who could easily open up doors of mysterious worlds? Or just an ordinary man who liked to nibble sunflower seeds, used services of hot bimbos whose number starts with 1-900, and had a collection of adult magazines?

Anyway, I couldn’t help but admit that Fox Mulder turned out to be very peculiar person. And I must confess that this discovery had fascinated me.

***

We’d been working together a little longer than a half-year when Phoebe Green made her appearance. 

Frankly, we didn’t like each other at first sight, and not because she turned out to be a beautiful English woman. And this antipathy even had nothing to do with her persistent efforts to pretend that I didn’t exist at all. I suppose that she was just a top-class bitch and did her best to emphasize it.

Although Mulder gave her another definition, comparing her to fire, it didn’t change who Ms. Green truly was.

Phoebe needed help in investigating serial murders committed by an arsonist, so she turned to Mulder for it. The perpetrator targeted English aristocrats, burning them alive and not leaving evidence at the crime scenes at all. It seemed that Ms. Green didn’t have any doubts about getting what she had come to the FBI and she turned out to be right, because Mulder agreed to participate in the investigation. That was when he confessed to me that Phoebe had broken his heart many years ago, and he hated fire and was scared to death by it.

As Mulder turned down my offer to help, I couldn’t help but feel offended by it. I could understand his reasoning; he wanted to overcome his pyrophobia to put on a brave front for his ex-girlfriend’s benefit. But I also saw Mulder flying toward that fire called Phoebe Green like a moth.

Having hid my resentment deep inside, I decided to help him with the investigation nevertheless. Phoebe could turn Mulder’s head with her charming smiles and witty comments, but I knew the way to bring my partner back to his senses. Substantiated facts and a scientific approach had an effect of a cold shower on him, cooling Mulder’s ardour. And I must confess that it was my personal achievement.

Well, I was also equipped with arsenal of various feminine tricks, but I preferred to act in a different way. Having studied the case file from the ground up and consulted an arson specialist, I wrote a profile of the arsonist on my own. So, all I had to do was follow Mulder and Phoebe to Boston to share this information with them.

Later, as I replayed in my memory everything what had been going on in the hotel “Plaza” in Boston, I reproached myself for undue loyalty. I should have insisted and made Mulder hear me out when I had called him earlier to fill him in on the work done. He had pleaded busy and brushed me off as though I was a little girl rather than his partner. I could have heard awkwardness and irritation in his voice. You bet! I had distracted him from something what made his ‘hands full’ as he’d put it.

Like in some soap-opera, I came across Mulder in lip-lock with Phoebe. I should have guessed what he was going to fill his hands with-- I saw enough to understand that Mulder wasn’t on top, so to speak, in this relationship with Ms. Green --

I bit my lip, trying to take my shattered emotions under control. At the moment it crossed my mind that there were too many sparks flying around, so we were in danger of combusting and burning to ashes because of them. 

The pair was whirling in time with the music and not noticing anything around them. I was looking at them for a while, wondering whether I should interrupt their dance and spill out the information, I’d collected so persistently? My doubts were resolved by the hotel fire alarm which set off a minute later. There was a fire on one of the flours where the children were. Mulder attempted to save them by himself, but hared out, inhaled too much smoke, and lost his consciousness. A very different man became a hero of that night; as it turned out, he was a driver of the English couple, whom Phoebe was meant to protect. My speculations about this ‘fearless’ man I preferred to keep to myself for the time being.

As firemen helped Mulder out of the smoke-filled hall, I decided it was time to throw away all hard feelings and half-words. After all, I was a doctor, and Mulder needed professional medical assistance. So, when everybody calmed down and got back to their rooms, I stayed with him.

Handing him a glass of water patiently, I tried to ignore his sulky expression. I was torn between sympathy for him and anger. I sincerely worried about him, but he had it coming. Looking at his doleful face, I realized that he got it figured out too, but was too stubborn to admit it. He was pacing the room, obviously going through his today’s failure over and over. As Mulder retreated to the bathroom, I thanked him inwardly. It was getting unbearable to look at the bare chest of a young, strong man even if he was just my partner.

Having decided that I reached the limit of my sympathy, I asked him whether he wanted to know why I had flied to Boston after all or not? Then I shared with him my suspicions concerning that driver who had saved the children from the fire. While I was filling him in on the information, Phoebe got into the room and declared right away that my suspect, as she put it, had been working for the couple for eight years by now and was clean. Also she told us that she was going back to England in a few days. 

Probably, she hoped that I’d leave her alone with Mulder tactfully, but these last days showed me that politeness and good manners weren’t always good advisers. I wasn’t going to make Mulder go through even more worries. Especially because of Phoebe Green. She had brought with her only chaos and extravagancy. And, to put it mildly, these were the last things Mulder needed in his life. If he wasn’t able to take care of himself and keep in mind our work and partnership, then it was time for me to take matters in my own hands.

I shared my findings and guesses with Mulder. He listened to me reluctantly, still reeling from the conversation with Phoebe. But as I presented him facts one by one, my partner’s expression changed until I noticed a familiar glint in his eyes. My heart started beating faster as a sense of relief and pride washed over me. Well, I was able to capture his attention finally. Now he was listening to me with increasing interest and impatience. Ultimately, I got Fox Mulder back to my disposal.

He mapped out a plan, according to which I had to stay at the hotel, call for the local field office, and get them to fax to me a composite of the suspect while he was going to catch Phoebe and her charges in their house in Cape Cod. We both were certain that they were in danger.

At last Mulder found the strength to overcome his pyrophobia.

The arsonist turned out to be that man from the hotel, who, actually, was a caretaker of his next targeted victim’s house. He had enough time to draw up a meticulous plan while he worked there. It seemed that he had soaked the walls with some kind of fuel because as he lit a match, everything erupted in flames. Mulder was able to save the children from the burning building, and the suspect with multiple burns was taken to the hospital and confined to a hyperbaric chamber.

Since then Mulder had never mentioned his ex-girlfriend. I hoped he realized that she had used him, pursuing her own goals.

Phoebe Green returned to England, and my partner stopped fearing fire.

And I welcomed this fact because of my bright red, flame-coloured hair.


	2. Chapter 2

***  
However, sometime after that the Bureau shut down the X-Files.

Mulder and I were reassigned to different divisions, our archive sealed off. I was back to forensic medicine at Quantico while my former partner was transferred to the electronic surveillance unit. That assignment was downright humiliating, to say the least, for such exceptional individual like Mulder.

I did my best to cheer him up, but as time went by, we saw each other more rarely, still deprived of an access to the X-Files archive. I read only apathy and alienation in his eyes at those rare moments when I run into him in the FBI halls.

When AD Skinner told me that they couldn’t find Mulder, I wasn’t even surprised. It was so Mulderish, sneaking away and disappearing during yet another wild goose chase--

That his AWOL might have cost us our lives--

I found him at Arecibo, Puerto Rico. Mulder was babbling about ‘the contact’, ‘extraterrestrial intelligence’, and ‘proofs’ while I was examining the mess in the room with broken equipment and a stiff body of some unknown man.

Having heard the roar of a car engine, I darted outside and saw an army van with the Green Berets seal on its flank. As you might guess, this special force made its appearance only on _special_ occasions. It seemed that they had arrived here for a mop-up operation. We needed to get out of there as soon as possible otherwise we’d got yourselves killed without a doubt. I had to literally force Mulder out of the room.

I could already hear soldiers’ voices nearby when Mulder finally jumped into the Jeep and pushed the accelerator into the floor with all his might. The car darted off and moved down the hill. In a second I heard our rear window shattered.

“Scully, get down!” Mulder shouted.

I clung to the dashboard and looked back. The troops were chasing us, firing at our truck. Were my former partner’s findings so important they were going to kill him for it?

Mulder whirled the wheel to the limit and the car raced down through the branches and foliage. Soon the gun shots got distant and the roar of the army van faded in the distance. 

Mulder was driving at top speed for the next twenty minutes, constantly swerving at the landscape. At last he turned the engine off and the Jeep stopped, jerking for the last time.

We kept silence, straining our ears in attempt to catch any sound of the farther pursuit. Mulder was first to speak.

“Are you hurt!?”

I managed to loosen my grip on the dashboard and then release it.

“I’m fine. What about you?”

“I didn’t put everything on the line to get myself shot by Green berets, Scully. I was able to grab one of the reels with the alien signal on it from the observatory.”

I stared at him in total disbelief. We’d barely avoided being killed, and yet he still thought about the evidence of the existence of the extraterrestrial life! The adrenalin in my blood suddenly kicked in and I started laughing hysterically. 

Mulder was watching me for a while mutely but then started laughing too.

Everything, we’d been through recently, had an effect of alcohol upon us. The emotions were changing with light speed as weakness turned to exultation, fear gave way to joy. The air in the car became stuffy and I felt the heady musky scent of male sweat.

I dared to have a look at Mulder and gasped, feeling a wave of arousal washed over me as I took in his tight muscles under the sweaty T-shirt, his frowned eyebrows, his sparkling eyes. Dark stubble covered his cheeks and chin, making Mulder look even more moody and dangerous. At the moment I was being suddenly overwhelmed by the insane desire to press my mouth to his neck and taste his salty skin. I couldn’t help but lick my lips, and this little gesture didn’t escaped Mulder’s attention – I noticed that he had tensed even more. He was scrutinizing my flushed face, his fingers clutched the wheel spasmodically.

As I shifted my gaze to them, it came to me that he had strong but delicate fingers. Our practice shooting at the FBI shooting range revealed to me that Mulder was good at firing a gun, but what if his palm squeezed my breast instead of the butt of a weapon? What if his hands caressed my stomach and hips? My nipples reacted to this day-dream instantly by getting hard, while my panties got wet.

‘You moron, what the hell is wrong with you? It’s just the perfect timing for getting horny with all this mess going on around you,’ I berated myself inwardly.

“Let’s go, Mulder,” I asked him, turning to the passenger window. My voice was thick and a little bit husky with arousal, so I could only hope that he hadn’t noticed it.

Mulder turned the key into the ignition and pushed the accelerator to the floor. The car darted forward and he drove it to the nearest town.

We kept persistent silence almost all the way back to Washington, breaking it only in case of emergency.

***

And afterwards things started changing with a truly breathtaking speed.

Mulder got a new partner, a certain Alex Krycek, and together they run an investigation of a strange case of a soldier who hadn’t been sleeping for more than twenty years and was killing his fellow soldiers. Later, when a man named Duane Barry had taken hostages in a travel agency in Richmond, Mulder was summoned there to carry a negotiation with him.

Barry had been diagnosed with a mental disorder in 1982 and been on and off the mental institution since then. He believed that he had been abducted by aliens repeatedly, and, naturally, Mulder couldn’t keep out of this case.

During the operation Barry was shot by a sniper and taken to the hospital in critical condition. Doctors retrieved metal implants from his body and Mulder brought one of them to me. I took it down to the ballistics to run the tests and they found a microscopic stamp on it. Later, at the supermarket, I had an idea of running it across the bar code scanner. To my utter shock, the machine went haywire, ringing up thousands of digits as though it was a serial number. 

Back at my apartment I left a message on Mulder’s answering machine, sharing my guesses about Barry being catalogued in some king of archive with it.

I remember what happened later in snatches; just sounds of window glass breaking, a strong blow to my head, sharp pain in my tied wrists, the darkness and the stuffy air in the trunk. Then nothing at all.

***

It was Mulder who gave me back my cross that my Mom had given me on my 15-th birthday. I had no idea I had lost it during my abduction by Duane Barry; it seemed Mulder had found it.

I felt how hot tears started filling my eyes and averted my face hastily to prevent him from seeing me in such vulnerable condition. I still was too weak and therefore too sensitive.

“But you’re alive, Scully!” Mulder said repeatedly when he visited me at hospital.

Without a doubt, it was the most important thing.

I had no memories of what had happened with me back then at all; I didn’t know how I had ended up at the Skyland Mountain with Duane Barry, or where I had spent all that time, or how I had appeared in the hospital as though out of nowhere.

From Mulder I gathered that the X-Files had been opened anew, so he once again became a senior agent in the division, while I got a vacant position of his partner back. As it turned out, Alex Krycek, the same agent who’d been assigned to be his partner, had had something to do with my abduction by Barry. They put out an APB on Krycek after his involvement had become apparent. Mulder was sure that he worked for those people who had been behind my abduction.

As time passed, I slowly but surely recovered. It would take time to estimate the consequences of my three-month absence, but it was impossible to ascertain the damage that had been done to my health. I had no choice but to believe that everything was going to be all right. And return to my work.  
***

“Scully, I don’t think you should do IT!”

“Thanks for your care, Mulder, but I’ve rested enough. I’m ready for field work!”

“I’d rather you rest just a little bit more--“

We’d had this conversation not for the first time since my recovering and coming back to work. Mulder did his best to protect me from any possible overwork. With dogged determination he let me do only paperwork or some research in the lab. It was time to do something about it, so I was intended to stand my ground and accompany him to the next field trip.

About the same time Adam Pierce, a scientist at the California Institute of Technology who was a member of a special volcanic research project, went to us, seeking our help.

He told us about a strange incident that had happened to a team of scientists who worked at Mount Avalon. They suddenly stopped making scheduled status reports and hadn’t responded to the calls ever since. The tape, Pierce had with him, revealed burnt body of the chief seismologist, Philip Erikson, lying at the floor of the volcano. Pierce suspected that his colleague, Daniel Trepkos, had something to do with his death.

I insisted on Mulder taking me with him. Reluctantly, but he gave in.

Upon arriving at Mount Avalon, we met those scientists Pierce had mentioned earlier: robotics engineer Jason Ludwig, systems analyst Peter Tanaka, and graduate student Jesse O'Neil. They were shell-shocked, obviously. Later Mulder found Trepkos’s notes with descriptions of some unknown life form, discovered in the volcano.

That was when our real problems started.

Peter Tanaka died when his throat was pierced by some fungus-like organism. External examination of his body revealed that a silicon-based parasite (exactly as Trepkos described it) had grown inside of the scientist until it reached reproductive maturity and essentially outgrow its host. I was able to ascertain that that organism released its spores into the air. This discovery made me place the entire group in quarantine.

Jesse O’Neil was depressed. Having talked with her, I gathered that she had come there because of Trepkos. I could only guess about the true nature of their relationships.

I tried to cheer her up but I realized that I couldn’t tell her anything soothing yet. Also we still didn’t have a slightest idea about Trepkos’s whereabouts.

Mulder decided to descend to the volcano caves, seeking for our main suspect. How could I let him go alone? After everything we went through here?

“I’d like to go with you, Mulder.”

“It’s out of question, Scully.”

I was ready to voice all my pros, but Mulder, as always, refused to take me with him in a terse and curt manner. The look in his eyes was calm and steady when he made it perfectly clear that any arguments and strife from my end would be like talking to a brick wall.

“Look, I know what you're thinking but you have to get past that. We both do. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere!”

It was a feeble attempt, I know.

“Don’t you have to finish the autopsy on Tanaka?”

The blow was completely unfair, but sometimes Mulder tended to do something like that. I couldn’t help but feel tears welling up. He heaved a semi-sigh, semi-groan and leaned closer to me. 

“Look, Scully,” he said softly, “I have to find out what he knows. What he's found could change everything we understand about the origin and evolution of life.”

“Mulder, Trepkos is dangerous. He’s already killed two men!”

At the moment I didn’t care if he wouldn’t approve my sentimental outburst. But Mulder simply shook his head, and I realized that he wasn’t going to change his decision no matter what; I had to stay at base while he risked his life. 

“Scully, I’m counting on you. Perhaps, you’ll give us a better idea of what we’re dealing with here, and… keep us all from ending up on that slab.”

Mulder moved even closed and squeezed my shoulder with his hand in a tender and desperate gesture. We didn’t have right for more explicit display of our emotions in such situation. 

I watched him go, thinking how Mulder had felt when he hadn’t found me at the Skyland mountain. Mom told me that he’d worn my cross while I’d been gone. I thought it was very intimate gesture, so I hesitated to discuss this particular topic with my partner. I wanted to move on, leave that terror of my abduction behind, but Mulder still believed that I was vulnerable and tried to protect me fiercely. I had to admit that we grew closer because of everything we’d gone through back then.

And if I wanted to, I wouldn’t possibly forget that sudden wave of overwhelming desire that had hit me when we had fled from Green Berets. Now I felt that even one small spark would be enough for us to end up in the sack--

I broke that train of thought to go on with the work at hand. I run some tests and found out that unless these spores were ingested or inhaled by the host organism immediately upon their release, they became harmless... effectively dead. Great news! At least, Mulder and I hadn’t been infected yet.

Suddenly the power went out. As I fumbled with switches on the electrical switchbox, Jesse appeared, scaring the hell out of me. Her glassy eyes looked as though through me, she panted as the air escaped her lungs with wheezing sound; something was definitely wrong with her.

Suddenly she grabbed my arm and cuffed it to her own with handcuffs. I saw a large bulge forming on her throat as though something tried to pierce it from inside. Jesse was infected! Having realized that I had no much time left, I threw O'Neil over my shoulder and put her into a plexiglass contaminated sample chamber, closing the door against the chain and leaning on it from outside. O'Neil tried to break through the transparent glass, screaming and wheezing. I was out of my mind with fear. Eventually I heard a pop and Jesse’s body went limp. Fortunately, the glass wall took the main blow so now the spores as well as Jesse O’Neil were dead.

Being overwhelmed be a sudden wave of tiredness, I sank to the floor and tried to catch my breath. It was over.

“Scully?!”

My partner’s voice seemed to be the greatest sound in the world to me at that moment.

I sensed him near and said over and over again, “I’m OK. I’m OK.”

Mulder kneeled by my side and put his hand on my cheek, tracing the outlines of my face with his fingers. For a moment I allowed myself luxury to enjoy this sign of affection.

After Mulder had unlocked the handcuffs and helped me up, he told me Trepkos’s story and let the scientist, who had come with him, go with Jesse’s body.

I made an attempt to question my partner’s decision, but man’s blank expression made me bite my tongue. We left the base a few hours later.

Inside the chopper, that took us away from the mountain, Mulder covered my hand with his own and squeezed lightly.

Involuntary my thoughts kept turning to Trepkos, heading for the volcano caves with Jesse O’Neil’s body in his arms. 

That girl followed her teacher, her friend, and, perhaps, her lover who was looking for the Truth. What irony! The truth revealed itself to him, but as a result he lost everything he held dear. But my loyalty to Mulder was akin to imprudence too. And should I let myself offset the perfect balance of our relationships, we would find ourselves in the same position as Jesse and Trepkos eventually. Our successful partnership was based upon mutual respect and trust. That was how things had to proceed.

While my acute sensuality in the Mulder’s proximity, the caress of his hands, the thrill of his touch, and the look in his eyes emanating tenderness one moment and burning with desperate lust the other had to be left behind, in the base at Mount Avalon.

*** 

I appeared before the FBI disciplinary panel in Skinner’s office where the preliminary hearing for my partner’s, Fox Mulder, misconduct was hold.

Rumors spread through the Hoover Building with the speed of wild fire. Literally after Mulder’s assault on Skinner I was told about it by two dozens of agents at least.

Eyewitnesses claimed that assistant director had approached Mulder to speak with him, not showing any signs of animosity, and my partner had physically attacked him. That incident only added fuel to already bright fire. The X-Files project had drawn criticism from the superiors because of my partner’s unorthodox methods before, and now it was in jeopardy once again, only this time the division was on the edge of closing due to outrageous insubordination on Mulder’s part. 

“Have you heard about the incident that took place here, in the hallway, yesterday, Agent Scully?” one of the members of the panel asked me.

Geez, it seemed that even parking employees were already familiar with every single detail of the fight Mulder had put up yesterday! 

The sneer of the chairman grated on my nerves. I wanted nothing more than introduce him to my fist and erase this sanctimonious expression from his face.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you have any explanation to Agent Mulder’s bizarre behavior?”

Actually, that was his normal behavior.

“No, Sir. Agent Mulder told me he was having trouble sleeping.”

Oh, I wish it was his only trouble.

I applauded myself for my ability to keep cool in this situation.

“Agent Scully, do you think Agent Mulder confides in you?”

Sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

“Of course, he is my partner.”

Yeah, and that’s why I have to take the rap for him.

“Your partner,” another member of the panel interjected. “Weren't you originally assigned to Agent Mulder to debunk his work?”

Why, aren’t you well-informed pencil pusher?

“Yes, Sir. For a year and a half I've been writing regular reports stating the validity of agent Mulder's work on The X-Files.”

“Would you lie to protect him?” It was asked in the same mocking tone.

And what am I doing now, in your opinion, you pompous ass?

“Am I accused of lying?”

I allowed myself to add a slight note of doubt in my voice. The panel members got nervous all of a sudden. You bet! To throw unproved accusations into federal agent’s face!

“Agent Mulder has been advised of a disciplinary hearing. If there's something we learn at that meeting that you haven't stated today, you could be subject to the same summary action!”

They put the lid on the matter without really trying to get to the bottom of the problem. It was the Bureau typical practice in regard to their two rogue agents.

“What action is that?”

“Dismissal without chance of reinstatement,” Skinner voiced their verdict.

“Is that all, Sir?”

“Yes, Agent Scully, thank you.” The assistant director didn’t even look at me. Well, by the way, he’d gotten an uncalled slap in the face from Mulder. And now he had to play a role of an executioner, notifying me about repercussions of the inconsiderate acts of his subordinate.

At that the execution was over, so I got up and left the room without saying goodbye. I had no choice but set out on a search for Mulder.

***  
All that mess started because of the diskette that Mulder got from his secret source. Two days earlier when I came to work, my partner seemed to be too excited and nervous. Nevertheless, I wrote it off as the awakening thrill of the hunt. He assured me that he had been given new facts that proved the existence of the extraterrestrial life, but as it turned out, the files were encrypted. You see I had often witnessed how Mulder had rushed forward, following yet another bizarre theory, so that was why I might not pay much attention to his behavior this time.

As his doctor I should have insisted on a full examination, but I had to give up that idea, because Mulder wanted me to find a translator from Navajo language.

So, as a result of my thoughtlessness, I had to endure a half-hour meeting with the disciplinary panel in the Skinner office.

I needed answers, so I went to Mulder’s place for them.

My partner was sleeping on his favorite leather couch when I came in. I found a glass of water and sleeping pills on the coffee table. So, did that mean he felt better now?

As I was going to awaken him, Mulder suddenly opened his eyes, startled, and reached for his gun.

“Mulder, it’s me! You didn’t answer the door!”

He sat up and rubbed his hand over his face. I looked at him closely: tired, bloodshot eyes, labored, heavy breathing, abrupt, jerky movements. Definitely something was wrong with him.

“I took a pill.”

Well, it was quite reasonable for a man who, as it seemed, couldn’t control his actions.

“I couldn't find you at work. I was worried about you,” I started, but Mulder interrupted me.

“I came home.”

I heard rising irritation in his voice. He made a gulp of water.

“I must be running a fever. Maybe it’s the treat of being burnt at the stake,” he attempted to lighten the mood with a lame joke. 

“They called me in today,” I went on cautiously.

Mulder leaned against the back of the couch and looked up at me with interest.

“What did you tell them?”

Was it me, or I heard a threatening notes in his voice?

“That nothing was wrong.”

“Well, you told them the truth then!”

“Mulder, you opened the door for them. They’re looking for a good reason now.”

I sounded accusing, but it seemed that Mulder didn’t give a shit about it. He closed his eyes and put his arms behind his head, giving a deep sigh.

“Okay, I’ll say I’m sorry.”

What’s wrong with him!? This is just plain childish!

“Mulder, these files. Who knows you have them?”

I tried to test the waters to understand where all of this had come from and how to proceed from here.

“Why?”

“Because I had to lie today! And I put my job in jeopardy to do so.”

Why is he so unconcerned about this hearing? What did happen with him after all?

“So, if they find out about those files--“

“How would they found out?” he put in.

“Maybe they already know! The question is, is it worth it? Worth risking everything?” I insisted despite his interruption.

Let him think about it after all! Let him see whether he’d jumped over his head.

“I'll tell you when I find out what's on it. Now just tell me who I can talk to about breaking that code,” he nearly shouted it to my face.

“I'm meeting with someone in an hour. I might know something later tonight.”

Mulder took another sip of the water and nodded, not rising his eyes to meet mine.

“I just need some kind of assurance that they're not going to let us hang ourselves with this. That I'm doing the right thing!” I finally decided to voice my worries.

The muscles in Mulder’s jaw clenched as he scowled at me. His glance gave me the shivers. I’d never seen him like that, even then, in Icy Cape, when we had held each other at gunpoint.

Mulder neared the window and taped an X to it.

“I'll try to find out.”

Wow! Have I really deserved some poor words?

“I need to know one more thing Mulder,” I wasn’t ready to drop it yet. “Why did you attack Skinner?”

What possessed me to say that? 

Pinning me with his piercing eyes, Mulder got around the table and towered over me threateningly. I barely reached his shoulder, and it came to me that he was much taller and stronger than me. These thoughts made my heart leap in my chest and then race. My mouth dried up instantly as I got acutely aware of his musky scent.

We had been maneuvering skillfully to avoid such situation, and that was how it turned out to be with Mulder standing so close to me, irritated and mad as hell.

I looked up at him, trying not to show my panic.

“And what do you think, Scully?”

To say the truth, I wasn’t thinking at all at the moment. This conversation was going out of hand.

“Mulder, I think you should see a doctor. Something’s wrong with you.”

I was caught completely off guard when he suddenly crossed the distance between us and captured my lips with his own in a hungry, impatient kiss. I gasped and stumbled as my legs gave way. His hands grabbed me, slid down my back, gave my ass cheeks a squeeze.

“Scully, prove you’re on my side--“ He pressed his lips to my throat and rubbed his groin over my stomach.

His hot tongue intruded into the cavern of my mouth forcefully, caressing and demanding a response. Heat started spreading through my lower abdomen.

Damn, we both went out of our minds.

I took his head with my hands and pulled on his hair. Groaning, he slid his hand under my coat, covered one of my breasts with it, and rubbed the nipple with his fingers.

Oh, shiiit.

I felt like if we kept it up, a disciplinary punishment would be the least of our problems; we would be just kicked out of the Bureau because of fraternization between partners.

And still I realized with perfect clarity that I wanted Mulder.

Wanted to moan and scream loudly because of his caresses.

Wanted to feel his hard hot erection thrusting deep into me over and over again, giving me pleasure.

Shiiiiiiiit.

I disentangled myself from his embrace with great effort.

Run.

Not giving myself time to change my mind and stay, I gathered remnants of my self-control and virtually fled from his apartment without looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me for such long delay, I'm a lazy ass:(

***  
Chapter 3

I had the second glass of exquisite red wine, sweet and refreshing at the same time, for the night.

For the first time I came here with Melissa shortly before my abduction by Duane Barry. I remember making stupid and ridiculous excuses for not stepping inside, but Melissa had none of it; she just laughed at me and finally almost forced me to enter the pub ‘Sweet Rose’. Then our get-together dragged on till midnight. Missy told me about her thorny path to self-discovery and picked my brain for information about my job and my new partner.

She was going to NYC and tried to talk me into going with her. After our father’s death we saw each other quite rarely, and Melissa didn’t tend to call either me or Mom too often. We could only wonder what she was doing back then. It royally pissed off Bill Junior, who was trying to put her on the right track, but being a true Scully, Melissa brushed him off without much efforts on her part, so eventually he gave up, coming to terms with our sister’s life style.

According to Mom, when I was in a coma, Melissa rushed to the hospital to ‘ascertain how much Dana’s aura has suffered.’ I remembered a crystal chime of the pendants on her wristband and her attempts to ‘clear my way to the light’ as she filled my hospital room with various protective charms and other things, whose true meaning was known only to her.

And I still remember how Mulder cringed as he came to see me and run into Missy. He all but fled from the room after he’d given me his present and my cross. Melissa just offered me an enigmatic smile in response to my questioning look. My sweet, wonderful big sister! How much I’d missed you!

Oh God, it was so long ago! In fact, I promised her to meet again in this cozy place some day. But that just wasn’t meant to be-- Missy’d passed away three years ago after being shot in the head. She died instead of me. It happened when Mulder and I were trying to decipher the DoD files, which contained proofs of the extraterrestrials’ existence and human experiments, conducted by the US Government. 

Everything went south back then: I was suspended and on the verge of firing from the FBI, while Mulder was wanted for the murder of his own father, Bill Mulder. The last had worked for the U.S. Department of State in his days and definitely known a great deal of Government’s practices. To get those files back and cover up their machinations, the men from the shadow Government was ready to go to any lengths. Mulder himself barely escaped being killed.

We had to endure many ordeals and pay a heavy price for the chance to get a little closer to the truth--

I took a gulp of wine.

I’d never been at this pub after Melissa’s death, but today I felt like visiting this nice place, full of sweet memories and disposing to reflection.

The last several days had tragic repercussions, making me crave for some time alone to get over everything I’d endured.

Cassandra Spender’s disappearance, those burned bodies at El Rico Air Force Base, and Agent Spender’s voluntary resignation made Assistant Director Alvin Kersh grudgingly reassign Mulder and me to the X-files division. My partner suspected that some bigwigs at the Government and the FBI took a hand in all that Syndicate mess, but as always, there wasn’t any hard evidence to support his conspiracy theory.

_“Scully, you’re reaching”._

_“I know her, Scully. You don't--”_

That argument at the Lone Gunmen’s place came to my mind unbidden.

Another sip of wine.

On the threshold of the impending Apocalypses, Mulder managed to put his trust into the most unreliable and suspicious person - Diana Fowley. To make matters worse, it turned out she’d been his ex-girlfriend and partner when he’d started working on the X-files. She’d supported him and approved his every single step unlike the red-headed parvenu he’d considered me to be for a long time.

How did Frohike call her? ‘Good-looking?’

Diana’s participation in kidnapping of Cassandra Spender and keeping two Federal Agents at Fort Marlene without any explanation was enough to hold her responsible. But he swallowed it obediently and even had the nerve to stick up for her when I tried to expose her lies.

As to myself, I’d never trusted Agent Fowley.

When Mulder and I were assigned to the Gibson Praise case, Diana eagerly backed up my partner’s theory that the boy’s exceptional abilities had saved him from a sniper’s bullet during the chess game with the Russian Grand Master.

Mulder had always told me trust no one, but while he regarded his ex-girlfriend with caution, he let himself be fooled by her words. He’d better be on guard and question Diana timing. Why did she come back and support him now? Regardless of that suspicious circumstance, Mulder was sure that Agent Fowley had his and the X-files project best interests at heart.

I was seething inwardly but refrained from making a scene in front of my partner. The situation had been heating up gradually until something unexpected happened: Diana caught a bullet, guarding Gibson.

In the aftermath of all those events, Mulder and I were kicked out of the division.

It was obvious for me that Diana pursued her own selfish interests, but I couldn’t do anything about it. When I tried to open Mulder’s eyes, he stubbornly refused to take my reasons into consideration. And it was his big mistake.

Nominally, Diana had spent seven years in Europe working for the counter-terrorism department. I found out that, in fact, she’d been collecting data on the definite members of MUFON – female abductees – and turning it over to somebody in Tunisia. However, the failed attack on Gibson Praise made her come back to the USA.

All evidence showed that Diana worked for the Consortium. So finally, I’d lost patience and spilled out all my suspicions and collected facts to Mulder, but he didn’t believe me.

For all I care, he could keep on turning the blind eye to Diana and taking anything she says at face value only because they’d been lovers in the past, but I wasn’t going to put up with his distrust any more. So, I sent him to hell.

But it seemed that something went wrong because while the members of the Consortium were eliminated, we stayed alive and got the X-files back. Maybe, there was a hope for us.

Only I couldn’t work with Mulder as before. Although I openly supported him as a colleague, our personal relationships still were far from perfect.

After my conversation with Kersh, I was going to call it a night, but then I suddenly remembered that pub where Melissa and I had had a good time once. I hoped that the memories of my sister would help me to calm down.

“Excuse me, are you Irish?”

“I beg your pardon?” At first, I thought I was hearing things.

A handsome chestnut-haired stranger with sparkling blue eyes was smiling at me unbashfully. I was so deep in thought that I’d zoned out actually.

“Oh, I suppose, you’re a descendant of the first settlers! Do Irish women drink whiskey?”

“I think so,” I replied warily. Our small talk started helping me to get rid of my angry and morose thoughts.

“A woman with such radiant hair must have a peculiar name.”

Suddenly, I felt like laughing. Nobody had used this pick-up line on me for ages. However, I must admit, I was too busy for these games. When was the last time I went out for a date?

Ah, yeah.

Philadelphia, Russians, a tattoo parlor, and-- Ed Jerse.

His name triggered memories of my fight with a terminal decease. Then I often had nosebleeds but stubbornly refused to accept even a possibility of cancer.

Certainly, I’d rather never remembered that name, especially not when I felt so vulnerable. Since then I’d done my best to leave this part of my past behind.

That sorrowful taste of death, brought back by the memories of my illness, was still fresh in my mind. That was dark time when my life was overshadowed by it and hope was too weak to bring me relief.

Mulder gave me an assignment in Philadelphia, where I had to run a check on a Russian immigrant who we’d met earlier and who allegedly had some information about UFO. Back then my partner was really pissed off because the Personnel office had made him to take a week vacation, so he couldn’t check his contact out himself. 

I refused to go, pointing out ambiguity of his source, but he, as always, had his own way. I believe then we had our first severe disagreement.

Nevertheless, I flied to Philadelphia, where I kept a close track on that Russian. Pudovkin turned out to be a plain swindler who had nothing to do with the X-files.

Following him, I got to enter a tattoo parlor where I met Ed. He was arguing with a tattoo artist, begging him to cover the tattoo on his shoulder: a picture of a beautiful flirtatious girl in a 1940s style. We made a small talk, and then, unexpectedly for myself, I took Jerse’s card. As I came back to the hotel, Mulder called, and we ended up fighting over the phone. It seemed to me that I was literally suffocating with his everlasting control over me. He was sure I wasn’t capable of handling even an ordinary surveillance. My life revolved around things I didn’t comprehend anymore. Everything happened mechanically, without any sense and meaning.

I said Mulder I got to go and would be out all night, so he wouldn't able to reach me. I believe he snickered, asking me if I’d got a date or something.

I wasn’t used to lie, it just wasn’t a part of my upbringing. As I hung up the phone, I called Mr. Jerse and asked him out. 

We went to that bar he’d mentioned when we’d first met and ordered some wine. We were talking, and at some moment I realized that I started breathing easily. Later Ed suggested going to that tattoo parlor and I agreed. After all, it didn’t hurt to check out Pudovkin once more. It was as good excuse as any.

What did get into me when I decided that marking my skin with a tattoo was a good idea? Looking back, I suppose I’d just wanted to do a thing that would have changed my life for the time being at least. Nobody would have ever believed Dana Scully could act so rashly. Why the hell not, I said myself and ended up with the picture of the snake, eating its own tail, on my lower back. Ed told me that everybody had a tattoo they deserved, but back then I didn’t see the meaning behind his words--

Ed suggested coming back to his place and asked me to stay because the weather had worsened dramatically. I agree, cringing inwardly at the thought of my partner, calling to the hotel to check on me.

So, I stayed at Jerse’s apartment, completely unaware that the tattoo ink, which had been used by the tattoo artist for my tattoo, contained ergot that might have provoked hallucinations--

While making love, he held my hands above my head, squeezing them tightly with his fingers. It hurt a little, but I didn’t mind. My sweat-covered breasts slid over his chest, my legs wrapped around his waist and released it alternately.

He moved slowly at first, letting me feel every single millimetre of him as he plunged into me over and over again. His muscles tightened as our bodies collided passionately. 

He bit my neck as he speeded up, pounding in earnest. I gripped his hips with my own and moved with him, trying to match his rhythm and understand what he wanted by listening to his harsh breathing attentively. I was completely opened to him, his tongue caressed my throat. As his fingers dug into my wrists with force, I felt myself on the verge of the fast approaching climax. He tensed, thrusting his hips with a vengeance, his hot breath scorched my skin, and as my release finally consumed me, the only name I could shout out was, “Muldeeer!”

I took another gulp of wine and gasped.

I couldn’t ever let Mulder learn why exactly Ed Jerse had tried to burn me down in the furnace. Ever.

“Miss? Are you all right? You paled all of a sudden.”

Oh, shit. I totally forgot about the chestnut-haired man with blue eyes. It seemed he was slightly taken aback by the stretching silence.

“I’m fine, it’s just too hot here,” I murmured.

In confirmation of my words I felt beads of sweat on my forehead. Why on Earth did I remember that incident with Jerse at all?

I came back to Washington, my face covered with bruises, the tattoo on my back hurt like a bitch. His voice dripping with sarcasm, my partner made venomous remark about my adventure and the second personal appearance in the X-files. I parried, reminding him that not everything was about him, it was my life. I think for the first time since I’d known him he found himself rendered speechless--

To say the trust, I hoped Mulder realized his mistake after he’d sent me to Philadelphia with that idiotic assignment. He got to understand that I hadn’t wanted to go. To understand and acknowledge that he’d been wrong. I wanted him staying in Washington with me, hoped to hear something – anything - from him.

Back then I often contemplated those wonderful warm days that had gone forever and mutual trust we’d lost, as it seemed, forever. Neither Mulder nor I knew if it would ever come back--

***

I took a cab from the pub. That nice chestnut-haired man with blue eyes, whose name, as I learnt, was Robert, treated me like a gentleman when he suggested taking me home, but I declined, saying that I wasn’t feeling well. Robert proved himself to be a sweet, polite, and attentive man as he ordered a bottle of mineral water, helped me to get out of the bar, and then waited patiently until I felt better. At parting he asked for my number, but I decided it was too much. I shouldn’t have given him hope. Nevertheless, our meeting helped me to understand one thing: my problems stopped looking unsolvable and my mood perked up immensely. Robert insisted on calling a cab and then watched as I climbed into the vehicle. I was touched by his thoughtfulness, I really was. It came to me that I should’ve gone out more often – at least, once a month. Sometimes I lost sight of nice small things, capable of cheering me up. Yes, my job made an impact on everything, but I'd like to forget about it from time to time and just enjoy those simple things--

I noticed Mulder immediately. He was standing by the front entrance to my apartment building. Blood surged to my cheeks as soon as I spotted him, and it had nothing to do with alcohol I’d drunk earlier. Definitely, he was the last man I wanted to run into tonight.

What the hell was he doing here?

As I paid the cabby, I got out of the car and staggered to the front door. Totally ignoring Mulder, I neared the door and started fumbling about in the coat pocket for the keys. I wasn’t so naïve to believe that Mulder would leave me alone right away, and yet his presence grated on my already strained nerves. Writing it off on wine, I tried not to pay it much attention. Well, let him stay and watch as much as he liked.

“Three glasses of wine overnight, Scully. That was quite rash of you.”

How did he know how many drinks I had? Was he in that pub? Did Mulder follow me?

For now, I wasn’t going to ask him about it although I didn’t like any of the guesses I could think of. 

I opened the front door with some effort and finally stepped in. If I didn’t have those drinks, certainly, I’d realize right away that he’d tracked down my credit card I’d pay for the cab to the pub with. Apparently, Frohike had found me and then sold out to Mulder.

“Mulder, I’m a big girl, you know.”

Yes, exactly what the doctor ordered! A slightly arrogant and a little bit sarcastic retort.

“I’m just delighted to hear it.”

My partner stood by the door, watching my movements with some interest.

I took the coat off and dumped it on the coach in the living room. Christ, the whole situation was so annoying!

What did he take into his head this time? Did he believe that I would jump into the deep end again like I’d done a few years ago in Philadelphia? That was why he rushed here, wasn’t it? Was he afraid of me failing him and his beloved X-files? Or did he hope for it to clear the way for his precious Diana? Old love does not rust, does it?

My heart beating erratically, I felt as my legs went rubbery. What was the likelihood of me being wrong? Or otherwise right?

I tried to pull myself together. This was the last straw! Nobody had ever thrown me off my stride and he wouldn’t be the first. 

“You’ve just ruined my evening, Mulder.”

“Yeah, like a piece of cake,” he replied, matching my acid tone.

“Oh, look who is a smart-ass here,” I murmured under my breath.

“I want you looking at me, Scully! Especially, if you’re accusing me of doing something wrong!” Mulder demanded.

I turned around grudgingly and glared up at Mulder, scowling. He gritted his teeth in anger, a muscle in his jaw was twitching nervously.

“Are you saying you planned to carry on your hot date with that lady’s man, Scully? If that's the case, you should hurry up and catch up with him.”

The sting of his words hit me to the core.

Mulder uttered that in the most nonchalant tone I’d ever heard from him.

As they say, the best defense is a good offense. I learnt that as a kid when my brothers fought with me, cutting me no slack as they treated me like a neighbor boy, not their sister. Mulder was taught by some good teachers, too, especially in Oxford, where he obtained his PhD in psychology.

My heart sank and my breath caught in my throat as I realized I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I snapped.

“It’s none of your concern why I went to that pub!”

“Yes, it is. I saw you naked, Scully, twice. It gives me the right to be concerned.”

My cheeks must have turned crimson, because all of a sudden I felt a strong urge to lock myself in the bathroom and splash my flushed face with cold water. The strain of the day, wine, Mulder’s dubious jibes took its toll on me and made my literally saw red. I was barely restraining myself from wiping this smug expression off his face with my fist.

He said that just to get a rise out of me! What a fucking asshole!

That incident at Fort Marlene was still fresh in my memory-- 

\-- Back then they rushed us to the one of the most strict decontamination center. We were ordered to strip naked and stay under the decontaminating shower until they let us get out. So, we had nothing to do but shut up and follow their orders, waiting for that humiliation to end. That was a communal shower stall, so Mulder and I were standing under the hot strays, stinking of chemicals, with just a low wall between us.

Mulder was the first to turn around and just-- stare at me. For a few extremely long moments, he’d been examining me from top to toe. And I-- I couldn’t look away. I saw that he devoured me with his eyes. I felt his desire, rolling off of him in waves, and it terrified me. I got scared shitless of myself and the feelings, rising from the bottom of my heart, when I looked at him. Suddenly felt embarrassed, I stepped back and willed myself to turn away. I was afraid of him reading the same emotions in my eyes--

Of course, vengeance is a bad feeling, but sometimes it’s the only way to take the matter in your own hands.

So, I’d made my mind.

“I saw you naked, too!”

I miscalculated.

Mulder seemed to want nothing more than hear these particular words. In a heartbeat he closed the distance between us, roughly pushed me to the wall, and pressed his groin to my stomach.

“That’s what you were looking for there, isn’t it?”

The room started spinning in front of me, and if Mulder didn’t hold me, I’d collapse.

“What did you say?”

“I asked if you’d gone to that pub, having some specific goal in mind. No, let me paraphrase my question: were you gonna jump into bed with that jerk?”

I sobered up instantly. We were glaring at each other, standing in the room I’d always considered to be a small one, but now it felt like the impassable gulf between us. Mulder wore a stone-cold expression, and I felt sick at the thought of him assuming the very worst scenario.

“How come you ever asked me this question?”

“I want to know, Scully. So, were you gonna do that?”

He grabbed my shoulders, and for a moment, I thought he was about to kiss me. Or, maybe, hit me, I wasn’t so sure. I tensed automatically, but Mulder chose the third alternative: he just shook me - once, twice – but so hard my teeth clattered.

“Let me go!”

“Not before you answer me!”

“What for? You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you? That’ s why you were spying on me and then rushed here to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid like I’d done back then, in Philadelphia.” I raised my voice.

I’d gotten carried away and couldn’t control myself anymore.

“Are you dating him?”

“It’s none of your business!” I finally lost my temper, shaking uncontrollably as residual alcohol in my bloodstream and the overwhelming rage made its present felt.

His fingers dug into my skin, hurting me. Mulder was standing so close to me he almost brushed my hair with his lips.

“So, you’re not that good girl you’re pretending to be, are you, Scully?” he said in a dangerously low voice.

In any other situation I’d definitely kick anyone’s ass for calling me ‘girl’, but right now I just blinked in bewilderment.

His hands slid down my torso slowly and stopped on my hips eventually. As his fingers started moving up and down the smooth fabric of my skirt, I run my tongue over my lips nervously, feeling my pulse racing. Mulder lowered his head a bit, so now his breath caressed my ear and neck. Not changing his position, he ended up pressing his palm to my lower back.

Slightly pulling back, Mulder looked down at me, and his gaze sent shivers all over my body.

When he placed his other palm on my side, I felt a sudden prick of fear but couldn’t hide from him – it was too late for escape. My arms lowered and hung limply at my sides.

It felt like the place on my body where his cock was pressing into me was going to burst into flame any minute.

His fingers sinking into my hair, he slightly tugged them down, throwing back my head and exposing my throat. I gasped as his lips started nipping at the skin they uncovered there. He pulled me closer to him, making me surrender under his pressure. 

Once he squeezed my breast with one hand, I screwed up my eyes involuntary. His erection was still pressing into my stomach as his other hand grasped my ass cheek, effectively pinning me to his body.

I lost touch with reality, completely giving up to those feeling he was arousing within me by his caresses, neither hearing nor seeing anything around me. I’d turned into the sheer desire I’d been denying for so long, fighting with it and losing eventually, as it seemed.

He was looking at me as though he didn’t give a damn about anything but me. 

Mulder pulled the hem of my skirt up to get access to that hidden place between my thighs, and I felt as his fingers moved aside the fabric of my panties, finding the wet heat underneath.

His eyes widened slightly, a soft sigh escaped his parted lips. I jerked under such intimate touch and couldn’t help but moan.

If Mulder didn’t hold me, I’d drop down to the ground because my knees buckled. Not wasting any time, he pushed his fingers inside me, and I clenched my fists so tight that the fingernails dug into my palms. His every stroke made me shake uncontrollably.

Mulder pinned me with his gaze, and I couldn’t hide my reaction to the circular movements of his fingers over the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

At the moment, my entire life was focusing on this man. On his hand. On his eyes. On his cock, pressing into my stomach persistently.

Mulder thread his fingers through my hair again and caressed the back of my head, not allowing me to pull away. His every movement deepened the contact of my pelvic with his hand, bringing me closer to the inevitable release.

My body demanded the only one thing capable of easing this growing tension. At that moment, I couldn’t think of anything but my pleasure. Mulder’s gaze shifted down to my breast, as my nipples turned to the hard pebbles.

And than I was hit by a sudden doubt. Was it really happening?

No, I couldn’t let it happen.

I could not! Could I?

I felt my climax building up. I was going to come, stimulated by his hand, and cared less about everything else. One second, two-- for a moment, an idea flashed across my mind that I was on the verge of passing out from intensity of my pleasure.

His hot breathing scalded my skin as he nipped on my ear, whispering, “Come on, Scully, come for me.”

I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my pulse beating in my ears. Contractions of the inner muscles during my orgasm made me moan over and over again--

He didn’t loosen his hold on me, pressing me to him as I was trembling feverishly. I dimly registered that he was covering my chin and throat with kisses and tried to take a breath but found that I just wasn’t able to at first.

My next attempt turned out to be more successful, and I felt some changes in my body: it felt relaxed but completely drained of energy and slightly numb. My heart rate steadied, my legs could sustain my weight again, and my breathing slowed down.

After all that just transpired between us, I didn’t dare to look up and meet Mulder’s eyes. I felt hot all of a sudden, my face flushed as a bitter guess stunned me: what if he’d used sex to control me?

Mulder slid his lips over my earlobe, bringing me back to the present.

“So, who are you, Scully?” he asked in a low, muffled voice, resting his forehead against mine.

‘I _am_ Dana Scully! Your partner. Your best friend. The only one you trust. Or-- trust _ed?’_

‘What point did you try to prove tonight, Mulder?’

‘What about Diana? Will you come back to her now? What does this never-ending guilt of yours feel like, Mulder?’

‘What happens next?’

I wanted to throw all these questions into his face, but instead I just disengaged myself from his embrace and headed for the bedroom, avoiding meeting his eyes. I was shivering but not from cold. I felt like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole.

I paused at the threshold and without turning back said monotone, “I’ll be on time for work tomorrow. Slam the door shut on your way out, please.”

In a few seconds, as the door closed with a deafening bang, I finally turned around and saw that the plaster had fallen off the wall in some places and crumbled on the floor.

I was alone. Again.


End file.
